


Levels of Familiarity

by useless_lesbean



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, and cultural differences, and more - Freeform, and pining because of said differences, its a familiar au!, more character tags added as they come, now with extra mutual pining!, or daemon or whatever you'd like to call it, that will also be tagged later, there will be copious amounts of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-01-13 13:52:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18470269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useless_lesbean/pseuds/useless_lesbean
Summary: All Jaina wanted to do was study, and keep her familiar from eating everything he could get his paws on.  All Sylvanas wanted to do was serve her homeland, and maybe strangle the Prince. But a chance meeting between the two will not only change those goals, but their very fates.





	1. A Meeting of Minds

**Author's Note:**

> that's right I'm doing this. No one else has, so I shall make the sacrifice myself!  
> A few things to note: this doesn't fully follow the Golden Compass 'rules' of daemons, or whatever you want to call them. More will be revealed but a few things for now: there is no separation pain, per say. Touching someone's familiar isn't strictly taboo, different cultures have different customs regarding familiars, and there are patterns of animals that different races follow.  
> Elves have big cats, always. Night elves have things like moonsabers, nightsabers and panthers, and high elves have 'springpaws' like lynxes, caracals, etc.  
> For humans- only mages have familiars. They have house cats, and rarely birds or creatures in the weasel family. Non-mages with magic potential in their blood can form a bond with an animal, and have limited communication with it and the animal gains more intelligence and self awareness in turn.  
> The rest will be elaborated on as more races show up! Now on to the important bit lol

“Is it lunchtime yet?”

Jaina sighed, for what felt like the hundredth time. “Donnelly, we _just_ had breakfast.”

“Over an hour ago!”

“No.” 

She felt wiggling against her back, dextrous paws gripping the shoulder of her robes. A satin furred head butted against her jaw, long whiskers tickling her neck. “Please? We passed a fish vendor with clams! We haven't had clams in ages!”

“We had some last week!” Jaina refuted. She craned her neck so she could just barely see dark fur at the edge of her vision, lifting a hand up to poke Donnelly’s nose. “You ate a whole bowl of them!”

“I'm starving!” He whined, wiggling his way further out of his sling and draping his long body over her shoulder, as it it would help his case. “I'll be skin and bones soon!”

“You don't even _need_ to eat, you glutton.” Jaina rolled her eyes, pushing him back down much to his squeaking protest. “Keep it up as you do and you'll be a seal instead of an otter. We're going to the library to study before we have to meet Antonidas.”

“...Did you just call me fat?”

Jaina rolled her eyes again, once more shoving his furry head back down. “If you have to ask. Quiet now, people are looking.”

“I don’t know why.”

“How many other mages have you met with an otter, Don? Or anything but a housecat or a marten or a bird?” Jaina asked rhetorically, there wasn’t anyone else with an otter and he knew it. She used to like it, that she had something different. Even though some of her old mentors would treat her differently because of it, or it attracted attention, she didn’t mind! Until it started to draw the kind of attention she would rather _not_ have. And when said attention interfered with her studies. 

Oh well. It was a moot point to dwell on anyway. Jaina smiled in greeting at the librarian when they crossed into the building, giving a friendly wave.

The high elf gave her a dismissive look, her bobcat not even bothering to open its eyes. Even apprenticed to Antonidas himself, she got nothing but disdain from most elves.

“They said Aegwynn had a gryphon,” Donnelly answered her anyway, poking his head out of his sling to bare his fangs at the elf for her rudeness. “Or a tiger.”

“Or it was an orange tabby cat, or an eagle, or any one of a number of possibilities!” Jaina argued, hopping lightly to jostle him. “Or maybe it was something different- because she was a _Guardian._ Anyway no one alive knows her and _the point is,_ people stare, because no one has an otter!”

“It means we’re special!” Donnelly slithered over her shoulder and out onto the table as soon as she sat down. He lifted onto his hind legs, clever little paws grabbing her cheeks. “ _You’re_ special. You’re powerful, everyone knows that, but more than that you’re meant for greatness. I wouldn’t exist otherwise. Or I’d be some sort of seagull, and I would rather die than be one of those rats with wings.”

Jaina snorted, tipping her head forward to rest their foreheads together. “You wouldn’t have known any different.”

“I would.” Donnelly sniffed, flopping away from her, in perfect position to be a bookrest for her. “They know what they are. They know they’re the absolute worst.”

“You’re just mad that Fishbeard stole your crab.”

 _“He’s not even a familiar!”_ Donnelly squawked, her book jumping with his flustered movements. “He just hangs around your mom!”

“Which means he actually needs to eat.” Jaina laid a hand on his neck, below the base of his skull, and scratched lightly. It was his favorite spot, and always made him, almost literally, melt into a limp puddle of contentment and fur. Just like now. “Unlike you.”

“Not the point.” He tried to argue before shuddering and chirring in delight when her fingers dug in deeper. 

Jaina shook her head fondly. She wouldn’t change him for anything. Even for all the sass and trouble he gave her, or all the weird stares she got, or even all of the elves and other mages who sneered at her and doubted he was even a familiar. At least until Donnelly opened his mouth and did their Kul’Tiran heritage proud.

She conjured herself a pen, smoothing out her parchment in preparation to write notes. She was trying to redefine her theory of how to teleport massive numbers at once, and she wanted to write a few equations and hopefully make a breakthrough before meeting Antonidas today. They passed the time just like that; Jaina studying and scratching out notes- admittedly she got distracted from her original focus by a fascinating treatise on transmutation- and Donnelly snoozing away as her bookrest. So long as she kept scratching him, at least.  
Jaina grew so comfortable, that she lost track of time. She glanced up at the clock between writing notes, and felt herself pale. Tides, she was late! _Again!_

“Shit,” She cursed, standing up frantically. “Shit!”

Jaina scrambled to shove her parchment and books into her bag, letting her conjured pen dispel. How could she be late again? Tides, Antonidas was going to get rid of her, she was going to be a disgrace to her family, she was going to be sent back to Kul’Tiras as a laughing stock-

Donnelly gave a curious little chirp, sleepily blinking into wakefulness. “Wha’s wrong?”

“We’re late!” Jaina grabbed him by the loose fur of his scruff, manhandling him into his sling on her back. She was already running as she did so, ignoring his protests and still trying to get everything packed away. “Shit, fuck, _shit!_ ”

Donnelly squealed and whined as she ran, and Jaina could feel him scrambling, twisted around and partially out of his sling- but they didn’t have time to stop. She sprinted through the streets to the Citadel, dodging around people and familiar alike, and up the steps.

 _“Jaina!”_ She heard Modera shout in alarmed reproach as she hurtled past. 

“Sorry!” Jaina called back, slowing only when Antonidas’s offices came into view. She tried to calm her breathing and pat down her wild hair, apologies already on her lips. “Archmage, please exc-”

“Ah, Lady Proudmoore!”

Oh Tides.

Jaina froze, only her strict court training letting her face automatically settle into a pleasant, if strained, smile.

“There you are, Jaina,” Antonidas greeted her. His table was set with a light lunch; a spread of small pastries and finger foods, delicate and tasty looking. But, what caught her attention was the unfortunately familiar high elf seated across from him. 

Kael’thas Sunstrider. Prince of Quel’Thalas, powerful mage, and current bane of her existence. He was dressed in his usual ostentatious finery, and a delicate golden cup was held between his fingers, steam curling above it. A haughty smirk was on his angular features, matched by the expression of his familiar sitting next to him on his own chair. 

She didn’t like how that wildcat looked at her.

“Lost track of time in the library again, child?” 

“Ah- yes, Archmage.” Jaina turned her attention back to Antonidas, sheepishly moving to set her supplies down on her own desk. “I was working on a few equations, and then a reference I found was so interesting…”

“How very like you, Lady Proudmoore.” Kael’thas chuckled, sipping at his beverage.

“No harm done.” Antonidas shook his head, gesturing to the seat at his right. “Prince Sunstrider and I were quite caught up as well.”

“Bloody great bilgerat is what you are, Jaina!” Donnelly said when tumbled from his slingm as soon as it was off her back. He gave Jaina an annoyed look and smoothing out his whiskers. “Shoving me in that like a fuckin' book!”

“Donnelly!” Jaina hissed, quickly putting her hand over his muzzle. “Watch your language!” 

Her otter gave her a squeaking little growl, pawing at her hand. 

“Charming as always, I see.” Kael’thas said with smile oozing fake sincerity. His caracal chuckled, delicately washing a red-furred paw. 

Donnelly glared at both of them, and Jaina knew highly uncomplimentary things would be spewing forth if she let go of his muzzle.

“Come sit and take tea with us, Jaina.” Antonidas invited, gesturing again. “Donnelly will be better tempered with food, if past experience is any indication.”

Jaina gave her familiar a pleading look. He rolled his eyes but nodded, letting her pick him up and carry him to the table. She took one of the little finger sandwiches for him- potted shrimp, which Antonidas ordered just for them. He took it from her eagerly, immediately taking a large bite. Just like that, all was forgiven, Jaina knew.

Kael’thas’s familiar chuckled again, eyes glittering slyly. “So interesting that a spirit beast eats so much- I never knew one could get fat.”

Jaina put a staying hand on Donnelly’s soft back when she felt him tense, hoping against hope that he would hold his peace and let her handle it. She bared her teeth in a tight smile, tamping down her own anger. “Otters naturally look like this, noble beast of Prince Sunstrider.” 

“Come, darling, I’ve given you my name!” He flicked his ears, gold earrings sending up a sparkle as they caught the magelight in the room. “Call me Ilthranir, I _insist._ ”

“I would not wish to be so bold, noble beast.” Jaina deflected, once again. It was a custom that had seemed strange to her at first, but now she was glad for it. Using his name was a level of familiarity she did not want to invite. 

“One day,” The caracal narrowed his eyes in a cat-smile, and she could have sworn cosmetics were around the natural white lines around them to make them even more striking. 

“Not today, as we should really get to her lessons, Antonidas.” In a flutter of soft grey wings, Gerault alighted on the table next to Jaina. “Late as we are.”

The parrot was on her side in all of this, for which Jaina was eternally grateful. 

“We have a few more matters to discuss, and then perhaps Prince Sunstrider will grant us some time to go over the equations Jaina had,” Antonidas countered, looking to the elf for confirmation. “Three mages may make more progress than two.”

“I'm afraid I must ruin that plan, Archmage,” A new voice, unmistakably elven, spoke from behind her.

Jaina half turned, eyes widening at the figure in the doorway. She was, perhaps, the most beautiful woman Jaina had ever seen. A lithe wildcat was at her feet, fur a pale gold- almost silver- that matched the woman’s hair, dotted beautifully with dark spots and stripes. 

It was fitting, Jaina thought dazedly, that so gorgeous a woman would have a familiar that matched.

Even the irritated look both wore couldn’t ruin it. 

She was dimly aware of conversation around her, but was too caught to really pay attention- until her name was spoken.

“-wouldn’t you, Jaina?”

 _Shit._ “Yes, Archmage,” Jaina agreed automatically, and heard Donnelly groan. 

“Good!” Antonidas beamed at her, “Off you go then.”

Tides, what had she agreed to? Jaina hesitantly stood, holding Donnelly tightly against her shoulder and retrieving his sling. Think, _what had she agreed to?_  
Terrifyingly, the elven woman was looking at her in consideration, eyes flicking over her. Oh gods, did she agree to do something with her?

She was going to die.  
Jaina slipped from the room first at the elf’s gesture, stopping a few feet away and watching her close the door.

And then turn an expectant look on her.

Jaina stared dumbly back, caught by her eyes. They were beautiful...shining gently with arcane like all elves, but a stormy grey color she had never seen before, instead of the usual blue. And they were so soft and warm, the irritation gone from them. Gentle. She could look into them for hours.

Her familiar, a serval if she was correct, made a sound of amusement, breaking Jaina from her stupor. The elf’s lips twitched, and Jaina glanced down to them before looking away with a heavy swallow.

“You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” Her voice was gently amused, and only made Jaina’s heart pound.

She flushed heavily, caught. Tides.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------

“He’s doing this on purpose.”

“Of course he is.” Mial yawned, arching her back in a long stretch. “When has he not done this?”

Sylvanas nudged her soul beast with her boot lightly, sighing through grit teeth. “When the King was with him. Why he thinks he can get away with this...”

“He knows you avoid the Council like the plague, and so won’t go complain to them or Anasterian. Of course he’s going to be a shit.”

Sylvanas sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. That was true. Maybe she should just bear voluntarily talking to the council for one day, just _one,_ so she didn’t have to deal with Kael’thas being a spoiled brat. But even the thought of being stuck talking to those stuffy old nobles made her snarl annoyance. Nothing could be done in one day with them, she was fooling herself if she thought otherwise. It’d no doubt turn into a week, where she’d have to lodge a formal complaint, complete with all paperwork involved.

And she couldn’t even give Kael’thas a taste of his own medicine, because he _would_ go to them. 

“Track them.” Sylvanas growled. She didn’t need to ask if Mial could. She knew she could, and had several times before.

“To the portal area, then.” Mial sighed, already trotting ahead. “Good thing they wear such unique perfume. Though I am tired of smelling it.”

“We can stop at the market and get some of that disgusting pickled fish these humans like.” Sylvanas offered, ears pinned back in irritation. “Open it and pour it on Ilthranir. Or you can eat it and breathe on them.”

“It would almost be worth the taste.” Mial stopped and put her nose to the cobble, large ears twitching forward. “Hm. Looks like we don’t even need to go all the way back.”

Sylvanas grunted, following the serval in the direction of the Violet Citadel. Of course. She should have guessed he’d be hiding with the mages under the pretense of ‘discussing magical theories’. 

_‘Complicated things a ranger wouldn’t understand, I’m afraid’_ he had told her once with a condescending little smirk. She wanted to take him to the forest and drop him there to make his way out. And watch from the trees as he got horribly lost.

It would never happen, of course, but she could dream.

Mial bounded ahead of her, and Sylvanas offered a terse nod to the mages she passed.

Archmage Modera nodded back, a knowing look on her face. “Ranger-General. He’s up with Antonidas.”

Of course he was. Only the top level mages were worthy to associate with. 

She let Modera’s white cat twine around her ankles as she passed, pausing only for a moment to lean down and give him a pat. Humans’ beasts warmed up faster to strangers than those of elves, to where even an acquaintance was sought after for petting. Sylvanas still occasionally found it odd, but overall didn’t mind. 

“Watch out,” Timshael warned with a happy purr, trotting back to his mage. “Ilthranir has the collar with the aquamarine today.”

Which meant he was feeling particularly snobby. Lovely.

Sylvanas and Mial approached the Archmange’s office, finding the door curiously open, it’s usual privacy charms therefore null.

“We have a few more matters to discuss,” She heard Antonidas say, “And then perhaps Prince Sunstrider will grant us some time to go over the equations Jaina had.”

Oh hell no. Sylvanas didn’t know who ‘Jaina’ was, nor did she particularly care at the moment, but she wasn’t going to wait another minute for Kael’thas.

“I’m afraid I must ruin that plan, Archmage.” Sylvanas announced herself, stopping just in the doorway. Her eyes were locked on Kael’thas, positive her irritation was showing clear. He was _taking lunch_ with the Archmage. She just barely tamped down the urge to bare her fangs. Unlike him, apparently, she had things to do. The fact that he had kept her waiting so he could _sit and chat over lunch_ was infuriating.

The surprise on his face filled Sylvanas with petty glee, but the feeling was quickly replaced when a smug, condescending smile appeared. “Ranger General! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Cut the bullshit, Sunstrider.” She snapped, hearing Mial growl at her side. “We agreed to meet an hour ago in the square so I could deliver this report, as you had ‘business’ in Dalaran and ‘couldn’t possibly’ wait in Silvermoon. I have things to do today, and have no time for your games!”

“As you see, I too have things to do!” Kael’thas smiled, showing his teeth. “The Archmage and I are discussing important matters. How remiss of me, that I forgot the time we were to meet!”

Sylvanas growled, her ears pinning back. By the sun, she was going to commit treason here and now and destroy this spoiled little- “‘Giving extra time’ and ‘going over equations’ aren’t important matters. At least not that concern you.”

“That wasn’t what we had been covering.” Ilthranir answered for him, shifting daintily on his velvet cushion. “It was of matters concerning the Kirin Tor. The Archmage’s apprentice simply arrived for her lesson and derailed our earlier talks.”

“Yes, and I’m afraid they can no longer wait.” Kael’thas waved a hand to dismiss her. “Go find some enjoyment in the city, Sylvanas. We’ll find you when we’ve finished.”

“Jaina can accompany you.” Antonidas offered, tilting his head at his apprentice. “She isn’t yet a member of the Kirin Tor, after all, and she would be happy too. Wouldn’t you Jaina?”

Sylvanas finally noticed the third mage in the room- a pretty young woman with golden blonde hair and striking blue eyes. She jumped, as if scalded, and hastily agreed with Antonidas.

Her beast was a curious creature. Long, yet rotund, with dark fur and a cream colored throat. Sylvanas remembered seeing similar creatures around Lordaeron and Stormwind during the war, but couldn’t remember what they were called. 

The young human grasped her beast tight to her, fetching a curious looking pack. 

Sylvanas gestured for her to exit the room first, closing the door behind them...and finding the young woman, Jaina, staring at her. 

She was tall, but somewhat stocky. Oddly like her spirit beast. And utterly dumbstruck.

Sylvanas waited patiently. Jaina didn’t move. Or speak.

Mial snorted. Sylvanas’s lips twitched up into a grin. “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

Red spread across Jaina’s fair cheeks. “Uhm… no. No I don’t.”

“Apparently, I’m supposed to ‘find some enjoyment’ in Dalaran while my esteemed Prince discusses things with your mentor.” Sylvanas told her, smiling gently. “And Antonidas volunteered you to accompany me.”

The dark-furred beast perked up. “Does that mean lunch?”

Curiously, that made Jaina sigh, but Sylvanas thought it was a great suggestion. She hadn’t eaten yet, stuck waiting for Kael’thas. “An excellent suggestion, noble beast. Do you know someplace good- Jaina, was it?”

The human seemed to find her courage finally, or at least most of it. There was still some hesitance in her when she held out her hand, but at least she was moving. “I do- and yes, its Jaina. Jaina Proudmoore.”

Sylvanas reached out, clasping her hand warmly. “Sylvanas Windrunner. Lead the way, Lady Proudmoore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaina thats gay


	2. The Greatest Invention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its possibly a date maybe

Sylvanas Windrunner. Sylvanas _bloody_ Windrunner. 

Ranger-General of Quel'thalas. Leader of the entire quel'dorei military. Legendary hero of the Second War. 

And Jaina was going to lunch with her. As if it was no big deal. 

Sylvanas even acted like it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. She was friendly, listening attentively when Jaina spoke, speaking to her as if she was an equal, insisting she call her Sylvanas, walking alongside her without a care. As if _going to lunch_ with an apprentice mage and Admiral’s daughter was totally normal for someone of her rank and status.

Which, sure. Jaina was nobility, part of the ruling family of Kul’Tiras. She had status. But not _Sylvanas Windrunner_ level of status, and certainly not any that meant much in Dalaran.

Tides. Jaina stopped walking. What if she was expecting something fancy? She was an _elf_ and an important one at that- surely she expected something better than a rowdy tavern!

“Is something wrong, Lady Proudmoore?” Sylvanas paused with her, ears canted in confusion. 

“Er, no, it's just…” Jaina gnawed her lip, shifting her gaze away from concerned eyes. “I forgot to ask what sort of place you had in mind?”

“I believe you were the one who knew a good spot for lunch.” Sylvanas pointed out, and Jaina flushed.

“I do! I just-” She thought quick, trying to avoid blatantly saying it probably wasn't fancy enough. Because really, that could be even _more_ offensive than taking her to a tavern. Sure, Jaina wasn't exactly the best with social graces but she knew that much! “I realized I don't know what sort of food you prefer?”

The elf smiled at her, ears twitching back into their normal position. “Don't worry, I'm not picky.”

There was a tug on her hair, whiskers tickling her neck. “Clams,” Donnelly whispered loudly, “Lets get clams at Georgie’s!”

Sylvanas wrinkled her nose at that, “Well, I rescind my statement. Fish is fine, but I’m not too fond of clams.”

Donnelly squeaked. “ _What?!_ ”

“So long as ‘Georgie’s’ isn’t exclusively clams...” The elf shrugged, ignoring his indignation with a little grin. “It sounds good to me.”

Jaina hesitated. Georgie’s was a Kul’Tiran style pub. It was her favorite place to go, and she had been automatically heading there but it was definitely the last place she would want to take _Sylvanas freakin’ Windrunner_. Jaina had seen elves walk in, and then immediately turn around and leave at the first look of the pub. They would practically run away! Sylvanas would hate it! 

...Right?

Well, Jaina supposed she could ask. Subtly. 

“It’s Kul’Tiran food,” She told her, fully expecting a look of disdain. 

“I expected it would be- you are Kul’Tiran, after all.”

Well, she hadn’t expected that _Sylvanas freakin’ Windrunner_ would recognize her name as well. Thoughts for later. “It’s also just a pub. It isn’t like, uhm, a restaurant like you may be expecting?”

Sylvanas said nothing studying her with so intense a gaze that Jaina started to fidget and hastened to explain, “It’s just- you’re the Ranger-General of Quel’thalas. I’m sure you’re used to a certain standard, and Georgie’s isn’t anywhere close to that. Plus, well, all the elves I’ve met tend to not like uhm... all the rowdiness a Kul’Tiran pub has and prefer fancier places?”

Tides that could sound bad. Jaina flapped her hands, trying to recover. “I mean- not that there’s anything wrong with that! It’s- they often look at me like I should be serving them, and think humans are a bit uncultured and Kul’Tirans tend to have less inhibitions than other humans and-”

Light, easy laughter stopped her frantic rambling.

“You’ve only met nobility, really.” Sylvanas’s familiar purred. “And mages, but the ones here are just as bad.”

What did that mean? Jaina blinked, looking down at the serval but carefully not making eye contact. She was positive her face may burn off at this point. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Not all quel’dorei are so snobbish.” Sylvanas said, thankfully sounding amused rather than insulted. “Granted, we all have _some_ level of it. We thrive on gossip and scandal, after all, and what’s better than discussing how some poor soul wore last season’s colors?”

Jaina snorted a laugh, unable to fight back her broad grin. “How shameful.”

“Point is,” Sylvanas dipped her head a little to catch her downcast eyes, “A simple pub doesn’t bother me. I’m a soldier, no matter my rank. In the field you eat rations and whatever game you catch- and if you’re lucky, someone remembered to bring salt.”  
“And if you think sailors are rowdy, you haven’t seen drunken rangers.” The serval added wryly. “You should ask her about buck riding sometime.”

“Do not _ever_ ask about buck riding.”

Jaina laughed at the look of utter betrayal Sylvanas sent at her familiar. 

“That’s probably nothing compared to the time Jaina and her brother commandeered a dinghy and a barrel of rum- “ 

“And that’s enough of that!” Jaina hurriedly interrupted Donnelly, clapping a hand over his muzzle. “So, Georgie’s it is then! This way!”

She continued in their original direction, quickening their pace and trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks. Still, she couldn’t help but match Sylvanas’s sympathetic, sheepish grin. 

“It seems we must get them drunk, fellow beast,” The cat mused, padding alongside the elf, “So that they swap stories.”

“Sounds like fun to me,” The traitorous otter snickered, “And my name is Donnelly.”

“ _Bal’a dash,_ Donnelly.” The other familiar greeted, but didn’t give her name in turn. Not that Jaina expected her to. “She has a soft spot for rum, you say?”

“Oh look, here we are!” Jaina eagerly changed the subject, pointing at the faded sign.

Georgie’s Port in a Storm stood out like a sore thumb from the rest of Dalaran’s polished surface. Exactly as Georgie himself wanted it, to look more authentic. The front of his building, and his sign, had been carefully made to appear old and weathered. She had asked, once, how he had done it, suspecting that he had simply hired mages to blast it with water to mimic the weather in Boralus. 

It turned out that was only part of it. He had also used old ship timber, and even dragged his sign underneath a fishing boat a few times. Being set on fire- ‘just a bit, and totally on purpose, expected, and under control’ he had assured her- also helped it appear aged. 

“It reminds me of some of your ships.” Sylvanas remarked lightly, studying the sign and the open doorway.  
It was still early afternoon, so the crowd wasn’t as bad or noisy as it would be later. Still, Jaina saw her ears pin back faintly, and the serval’s fully flattened. Oh. She didn’t even think about noise level being a potential reason for elves to dislike certain places. Their ears couldn’t just be for show, after all.

“I think that was the point,” Jaina smiled, daring to touch her arm and encourage her to go inside.

Sylvanas returned the smile, strolling inside like she belonged there. She didn’t appear at all bothered that heads turned to stare at her, moving to claim a corner table after a questioning look at Jaina to confirm.

She sat down, her familiar settling at her feet, and glanced around in apparent interest, taking in the nautical decor. Her eyes lingered on a particular spot, a grin slowly spreading across her lips. “The Big One?”

Jaina let Donnelly crawl out onto the table, twisting to look at what Sylvanas had indicated- even though she didn’t need to. A fish, stuffed and mounted on a handsome plank of polished mahogany. A brass plaque titled it ‘The Big One’.

It just so happened the plaque was bigger than the minnow above it.

“I’ll have you know, Georgie fought that beast for four days, and seven nights.” Jaina gave her a mock severe look, hands on her hips. 

Sylvanas snorted, ears pricking forward and quivering, “ _Four_ days and _seven_ nights?” 

Jaina nodded solemnly, only able to hold her serious expression for a moment longer and laughing with the elf. “You should hear him tell it, it grows longer each time you hear it. I’ll go see what he has today- there’s usually mince pies and clam chowder, but the fish n’ chips are amazing when he has them. And he has a good ale.”

That sparked some sort of understanding in her eyes- maybe why there were no menus or servers. She waved an airy hand, unconcerned, “I’ll trust your judgment in food and drink both- as long as there are no clams. Your noble beast can have those.”

“ _Donnelly_.” He said insistently, before looking up at Jaina with pleading dark eyes. 

“Yes, Don, I’ll get you a whole bowl of clams.” Jaina sighed, rubbing his head fondly. “Would you like anything, noble beast of General Windrunner?” 

“Thank you, but no.” The cat demurred, with an odd twitch of her muzzle. “I’ll try some of Sylvanas’s if I grow curious.”

“Back in a moment, then.” Jaina headed to the bar, greeting Georgie with a grin. 

“‘ey lass,” The burly man winked, tipping a chin over to Sylvanas. “Who’s your new friend? Must be someone special if she’s steppin’ foot in here for you.”

“Oh- that’s, uh- that’s Sylvanas.” Jaina wasn’t sure why she was suddenly bashful about it, but something about the twinkle in his eye and the quiet, friendly laughter of the people around her made her blush. “I’m just keeping her company while we wait for Archmage Antonidas and Prince Kael’thas to finish a meeting.”

“Fair ‘nough,” Georgie grabbed two mugs, filling them with Jaina’s favorite ale. “So, bowl of clams for the little guy, and we got fish n’ chips today, so an order of those I’m guessing.”

“Two, please.” Jaina said, happy he had her favorite today. “And a mince pie too. I’m not sure what she likes.”

“Well, your little critter will eat whatever she doesn’t, I’m sure.” He hesitated for a moment, looking past her. “That cat want anything?”

“No, but that might change after she tastes the fish.” Jaina laughed, taking the proffered mugs. “Thank’s Georgie.”

“No problem, lass. I’ll bring ‘em right out.” The man assured her, stepping around the counter to go to the kitchen.

“So they have your fish and chips, I heard.” Sylvanas remarked when she was close enough, taking the drink Jaina passed to her. “What is a chip, anyway?”

“A strip of fried potato- you heard all that?” Jaina dropped into her seat, staring at the elf. From across the bar, with other patrons talking, she had heard them? She really needed to find out just _how_ well elves could hear.

Sylvanas shrugged. “Not all. Too much noise for that, and I wasn’t meaning to. Was I not supposed to hear any of it?”

“No, it’s not that, I’m just...surprised.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
\-----------------------------------------------

Surprised? What was there to be surprised about?

Sylvanas let her eyes trail over the other woman’s face, up to the rounded shell of the ear she tucked her hair behind. Surprise that she could hear it? Could be. Humans didn’t have the greatest hearing.

And their ears didn’t move _at all._

No wonder everyone said not to play gambling games against them. So hard to read with their tiny, immobile ears. 

“You heard her over there?” The little animal- Donnelly- asked. He scooted closer to her, sitting on his haunches to look her in the eyes. What strange customs, humans' beasts had. “She ordered clams, right?”

“A whole bowl.” Sylvanas confirmed, looking him over curiously and debating with herself. It was considered rude to ask in quel’dorei culture, but not human, so… “Forgive me for saying, but I’ve never seen a soul beast like you.”

Interestingly enough, that made Jaina tense as if she had drawn a weapon on her. 

“I’d seen creatures resembling you in human lands, but I can’t remember what they were called.” She continued, watching Jaina closely. Perhaps she was being offensive after all. Maybe human customs had changed since the Second War.

But surely it wouldn’t have changed that quickly?

“Otters.” Jaina murmured, “He’s a river otter. Those are probably the ones you saw.”

“There are others?”

“Sea otters, but they got big stupid feet that don’t work well on land.” Donnelly sniffed, obviously basking in what he thought was his superiority. “So they always just float around on their backs.”

“I see,” Sylvanas chuckled, and it grew into full laughter when the little animal squeaked in excitement at the sight of an approaching bowl of the promised molluscs. 

“‘ere you go, beastie.” Georgie set the dish down, ruffling the fur atop the otter’s head. Balanced on his other arm were two plates- one heaped with fried golden sticks, and several pieces of what Sylvanas had to guess were fish. The other held a pastry of some sort.

“Double order of fish n’ chips, and one mince pie.” He proclaimed, putting both in the center of the table. A bottle of dark liquid was drawn from a pocket on his apron. “An’ malted vinegar, of course. You two enjoy.”

Donnelly wasted no time in diving into his clams, and Jaina did the same- eagerly selecting a chip and splashing malted vinegar into a dish sitting on the same plate. 

“Try some!” She coaxed, taking a bite with relish. 

It did smell good.

With hesitance that she would never admit to in a million years, Sylvanas reached out and took a fried potato, taking a small bite.

It was delicious. A perfect temperature- hot, but not enough to burn her. Crispy and salty on the outside, and soft and pillowy on the inside. From what she could tell, there was only salt seasoning them- but _Belore_ they were good. Where had these been her entire life?

“These need to be exported to Quel’thalas immediately.” Sylvanas muttered, taking another. “This is perhaps the greatest human invention in the history of Azeroth.”

Jaina sputtered and choked on her bite of fish, trying to swallow around her laughter. “Seriously? _Chips_ are our best invention?”

“I can think of no other that compares.” Sylvanas said, completely serious. “Mial, try this.”

Mial stretched up, setting her paws on the edge of Sylvanas’s chair to take the chip she held out.

Large ears perked forward, her eyes widening. “I have to agree, for a potato these are delicious.” 

“Try the fish as well, and you have to try both with the vinegar.”

“What are the lemons for then?” Sylvanas wrinkled her nose, taking a piece of the battered fish and tasting it. Light and flaky, and was that beer she tasted in the breading? Delicious. Not as good as the chip, but still good.

“You can squeeze those on the fish too.” Jaina told her, demonstrating and then dunking her piece in the vinegar. 

Sylvanas followed her example, grimacing as soon as the vinegar touched her tongue. Jaina noticed, of course, and Sylvanas gamely swallowed under teasing smirk. “It is...unique.”

“Stick with the lemon then,” Jaina giggled, nudging a few of the citrus wedges closer to her.

“Let me try,” Mial tapped a paw insistently against her hand, stretching her neck out. “Without the- the _malt_ though. Just the smell of it…and no lemon!”

“Yes, your majesty,” Sylvanas rolled her eyes, sharing a grin with Jaina. Mial sniffed daintily, but took the offered bite.

“Quite good.” Was the pronouncement. “An excellent choice, Lady Proudmoore.”

“Thank you, noble beast. And please do call me Jaina.” Jaina ducked her head, seeming pleased that she had made them happy.

It was charming. Adorably so.

“The title is brave beast, for those of soldiers, Lady Jaina.” Mial corrected gently, and Jaina’s face immediately creased in worry.

“It's another one of those things,” Sylvanas nudged Mial under the table in reproach, “Like clashing curtains and flecks of imaginary dust. It doesn’t matter very much.”

The worry vanished, replaced by a blush and a gleam of scholarly interest, “Still, I wouldn’t wish to accidentally insult someone. Are there other titles as well?”

Adorable.

“Wise, for healers and priests.” Sylvanas answered her, “Energetic, for children. Again, it doesn’t really matter. The only one that does is if you ever happen to meet King Anasterian. His soul beast _must_ be called royal, or blessed.”

“But not Kael’thas’s?”

“King and Prince are very different.” Sylvanas pointed at her with a chip. “Don’t ask me why, though, I’m not a linguist.”

“Do you have a knife?” Donnelly finally lifted his nose from his clams to interrupt whatever question Jaina was about to ask. He was gnawing on a clam that hadn’t opened enough, letting out squeaking growls of frustration.

“I do,” Sylvanas held out her hand for the clam, drawing a small knife from her boot with the other. She flicked the blade into the tiny opening, wiggling her blade around to pry open the mollusk. “There you are.”

Donnelly chirped in delight, clever little paws taking hold of the clam. He twisted his long neck, butting his head against her in thanks.  
Sylvanas froze at the feeling of velvety fur, ears flattening in her surprise. It was borderline ridiculous, that he had touched her so soon. She turned her attention up to Jaina, flabbergasted. Would the mage be irritated at her spirit beast?

“Soft, isn’t he?” Jaina asked gently, reassuringly. As if it was a fine, and not at all weird thing for her otter to do. _Humans._ “He makes an excellent scarf in the winter.”

“He doesn’t get too heavy?”

“Sometimes, but if it’s cold enough I don’t care.” The mage said. She started to gesture, her tone brightening as she began to talk, “I’m working on some sort of garment for him that I can enchant like his sling, so I don’t feel as much weight. It’s a lot different to casting a featherweight spell, though. It needs a rune sequence sewn in, and it was a bit of a trial to get it right. The first time, it only worked on the sling instead of anything in it, and I had to add- invent really- something for ‘holding’. Now that I have the enchantment I need to redefine it so it can be more than a ‘bag’ and find the minimum size I can make it work with- and I’m sorry, this is probably b-”

“Does it need to cover all of him then, or can it be a collar?”

“-oring?” Jaina looked and sounded surprised that she asked, that she showed interest. Had no one ever done so?

Well, other mages most likely had, of course. But no one else?

“You don’t think it’s boring?” Jaina asked hesitantly. 

“I think your passion is what makes it interesting.” Sylvanas told her, ears twitching at the way her face immediately turned red. “But I’ll admit if you get detailed about the magical aspects, I won’t understand it all.”

Jaina stared at her, amazed. _Belore,_ she was going to find whoever called this woman boring and destroy them.

“So, would a collar work?” Sylvanas prompted.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know.” Jaina slowly started to perk back up, taking another chip. “I’d have to modify it quite a bit, like I was saying. ‘Holding’ will only translate to a bag or a sling, so far. I was thinking I’d have to-”

Sylvanas chewed on her piece of fish, listening attentively as Jaina grew more and more excited. It quickly went over her head as she got more into the magic details, but Sylvanas didn’t mind. The passion that shone from her eyes was captivating.

 _Belore,_ she might have to actually thank Kael’thas for being an ass, otherwise she never would have met this little mage. She could already tell her life would be lesser if that had been the case.

She wanted to get to know her more- if Jaina was amenable to that, of course. Which, she thought, she might be. Sylvanas hid a grin, watching her eyes sparkle as she talked.

She’d have to find more reasons to be in Dalaran, it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you dont know how many times i had to stop myself from writing fries _~~which is the correct word~~_ instead of chips


	3. Platonic Friendship

“I know you're excited to see her, but please _try_ and focus.”

Jaina snapped back to attention, physically jolting in her seat. 

The look on Modera’s face was an equal mix exasperated and unimpressed. Even Timshael was shaking his head at her. 

“I- uh, sorry, what?” Jaina cleared her throat, taking stock of her desk and fiddling uselessly with her quill. Orcish magic. Translations of discovered runes. That's what she was supposed to be doing. That's what she _was_ doing. She wasn't thinking about seeing Sylvanas later. “I just lost my train of thought for a moment.”

“You were staring at the wall- grinning like a fool might I add- and not moving.” Modera scratched something down on her parchment. “For five minutes.”

There was no way it had been five minutes. Surely Modera was exaggerating, and it had been a momentary distraction. Jaina glanced at Timshael pleadingly, trusting that the cat wouldn't lie to her. Not about time, at least. He was a stickler about it. Constantly measuring lengths of time for seemingly random things to the point it almost bordered on an obsession.

“It wasn't five,” He purred, and she felt relief settle in before he quickly shattered it. “It was four minutes, forty-seven seconds.”

Shit.

“From the time Modera noticed.”

Double shit.

“I was thinking through a difficult translation?” Jaina tried lamely.

“Because orcish runes are a known cause of lovestruck sighing.” Modera rolled her eyes, not even bothering to look up at her.

“I wasn’t-!” Jaina stopped her protest with a groan, dropping her quill to hold her face in her hands. There probably was some sighing involved that she wasn’t aware of. But certainly not _lovestruck!_ Pointing that out to Modera only earned her another eye roll.

“It’s okay Jaina.” The older woman dismissed, “You’re young, she’s a beautiful woman-”

Jaina flushed, looking up frantically. “It’s not like that! I’m not- I don’t-!”

Timshael stared at her, and she had never seen such skepticism on a cat’s face. Modera just shrugged. “Alright.”

And that was all she said before focusing on her references. Timshael heaved a sigh and did the same, but Jaina still felt eyes on her. A cautious look to her left and she met narrowed dark eyes.

Donnelly twitched his nose, gaze boring into her. Disbelieving. 

“Don’t.” Jaina warned. They had argued about this already. Multiple times, ever since they had met Sylvanas. They said a familiar knew you better than you knew yourself- but in this case he was wrong. She did not like Sylvanas like _that_. She was just a friend. That was all. A very beautiful friend, but still just a friend!

Right? Right!

Donnelly rolled his eyes, curling back into a ball and tucking his head away.

Jaina huffed, taking up her quill again. Now, this rune seemed to be transformation based, and this one looked an awful lot like the quel’dorei rune for lightning, but the curl on the end was different. How odd.

She tapped the nib of her quill, humming in thought. Maybe a high elf would have some input? She could always ask Sylvanas. Even though she wasn’t a mage, she could have seen it before during the war. 

“ _Jaina._ You’re doing it again.”

Oh Tides.

“Just go.” Modera sighed, waving her hand at the door. “We can stand to be without you for a day.”

“Thanks Modera.” Jaina said sheepishly, packing up her supplies. “I’ll try to be more attentive tomorrow.”

The older mage snorted. “We’ll see.”

Jaina hurried to put everything away, her face burning under Timshael’s teasing stare. Muttering a goodbye, she picked up Donnelly, holding him close as she fled.

“Don’t we have an hour before Sylvanas gets here?” Donnelly asked, wiggling down from her hold, ignoring her attempts to get him in his sling. His way of showing his displeasure with her.

“Yes, but that gives us some time to freshen up a bit.”

Donnelly waddled alongside her, sniffing. “Which is a normal thing to do when meeting a friend, even though you already spent _how_ long looking for an outfit?”

“Oh, shut up.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
\----------------------------------------------

Despite what Donnelly said, it was _totally normal_ for Jaina to spend time looking for another outfit, just in case there was a better one she had missed. (She hadn’t.) And making sure her hair was neatly braided. Totally normal for seeing a friend.

Jaina couldn’t help but smooth out imaginary wrinkles as they headed towards the portals, both eager and nervous to see Sylvanas. She didn’t know why she was nervous, really. They had formed a fast friendship after the initial meeting, and they were only going for lunch, as they did most every time Sylvanas was in Dalaran. Nothing new, but each and every time they met Jaina would get butterflies in her stomach.

Not that that meant anything!

Donnelly chirped, suddenly hurrying ahead of her in a way that Jaina could only describe as galumphing.

“Don!” Jaina cried after him, watching Dalaran citizens swear and stumble as he got underfoot. “What are you-”

Then she was there. Sylvanas. The sun seemed to hit her just right, shining behind her and making her golden skin and hair glow.

Jaina slowed to a stop, unable to help her staring.

Mial was at her side as usual, and Sylvanas was bending down to lift Donnelly into her arms as soon as he grasped her leggings. She could see Sylvanas shaking her head fondly as she walked closer, and it really wasn’t fair that she looked so attractive glowing in the sun. She was attractive enough without the help.

The elf stopped in front of her, Donnelly draped over her shoulders and butting his head into her jaw. “Hey Jaina,” She greeted, grinning in that roguish way of hers.

The butterflies in her stomach started going crazy. “H-hi.”

“Are you alright?” Mial asked, twitching an ear. “You seem…unsettled.”

“I’m fine.” Jaina coughed, pointedly looking away from the serval. “I was just thinking of a project. How have you two been?”

“Oh, the usual.” Sylvanas shrugged, holding her arm out for Jaina to take. “Busy training recruits, losing my mind because of said recruits, wanting to strangle the Prince...”

Jaina took her arm, her hand nestled in the crook of Sylvanas’s elbow. Totally normal thing for friends to do. Same with her heart suddenly pounding. 

“We did get to see the nephews.” Mial purred, trotting alongside them. “And get yelled at by Vereesa.”

“Why did you get yelled at?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Why _did_ we get yelled at, Sylvanas?”

Sylvanas gave a very elven sniff of disdain, ears stiff at attention and head tilted up imperiously in a perfect impression of all the arrogant elven magisters Jaina had met. She had to bite her lip to stop the snort of laughter escaping, especially when Sylvanas spoke, putting on the loftiest voice she could. 

“My dear sister didn’t appreciate me teaching the boys how to use a bow.” Sylvanas huffed, sniffing again.

How to use a- “Sylvanas, you told me they were _three!_ ”

“Which is the proper time!” Sylvanas argued. “They should have already learned the basics. Honestly, she’s such a worrywort. It wasn’t like they were going to shoot each other. And even if they did she’s hardly the one to pass judgement. She shot me when she was younger, you know.”

“I did not.” Jaina tried to hold a straight face, squeezing Sylvanas’s arm. “But I agree with her. That’s far too young, Sylvanas.”

“It is _not!_ I was picking up a bow practically before I could walk!”

Mial snorted. “Which is why father was always chasing us around the house and yelling.”

Jaina giggled, leaning against Sylvanas for support. “I can picture that so easily.”

“You’ve been listening to her too much.” Sylvanas jostled her gently, “So, did you want to try that new place you told me about?”

“What?” Donnelly protested in a squeak, shoving his head between them, long whiskers tickling her cheek. Distraught, Jaina knew, that he might not be getting clams today. 

“We could,” Jaina ignored him and hummed, pointing to the next fork in the road. “It’s to the left, up here. Or we could go to Georgie’s again if you want. I checked, and he has fish n’ chips t-”

Sylvanas had been turning left, ready to follow her directions. However, as soon as Jaina mentioned fish n’ chips she was spinning them around, simultaneously bumping into her and holding her upright and tugging them towards Georgie’s.

Tides, she’d created a monster.

“Georgie’s it is, I guess.” Jaina giggled, quick stepping to keep up with Sylvanas’s pace. 

Donnelly cheered, grabbing Sylvanas’s head so he could stand up on her shoulders. “Clams!”

“Fish n’ chips!” Sylvanas countered with a grin, reaching up and behind her head to poke his nose.

Mial groaned, ducking around a vendor and their cart. She gave Jaina an annoyed look, her ears flat. “Why did you have to mention those? I need some variety!”

“Sorry, brave beast.” Jaina shrugged as well as she could, entirely unapologetic. She’d never feel bad about something that made Sylvanas happy- and she loved seeing the elf’s eyes light up in delight when she saw the plate piled high with hot chips. Mial shook her head, not fooled by Jaina’s false contrition. 

She wondered when the serval would grant her her name. Jaina would never ask, of course, but every time she saw Sylvanas, she couldn’t help but hope that Mial would judge it time. She longed for it, for that next step between her and Sylvanas growing closer. 

Which was still a normal thing to want with a friend, thank you very much. It was completely platonic.

Just like wanting Sylvanas to slow down, so they could continue to walk closely together for longer. Platonic.

But then they were at Georgie’s, waving to the man when he called out a jovial greeting- “Ahoy there! No need to order, lassies, I know what you want. Have it out in a jiffy!”- and sitting at the table that Jaina had started to think of as theirs. 

Donnelly took his usual spot on the table, wiggling eagerly and already licking at his whiskers. 

“I do think we’ve become regulars.” Sylvanas chuckled, her eyes crinkling in mirth. “And predictable ones, at that.”

“I think everyone has seen you inhale chips, so I’m not too shocked we’re predictable.” Jaina teased, reaching across the table to poke her arm. “You’re getting as bad as Donnelly with clams.”

“I’m hurt, Jaina. That’s hurtful.” 

“The truth can hurt, sometimes.” She couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the utterly wounded look the elf gave her, a curl of happiness in her. 

Yes, it was all platonic.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
\----------------------------------------------

“We’re going to be late.” Sylvanas grumbled, moving at a clipped pace through Silvermoon’s streets.

Kael’thas had held her up, as if he _knew_ where she was going and wanted to stop her, which was ridiculously paranoid of her to think. As far as he knew, she and Jaina had met once. Sylvanas wanted to keep it that way, if only to keep him from harassing Jaina more.

More likely Kael’thas just wanted to annoy her, and ambushing her after she had just dealt with the Council was the perfect way to do so. 

“We won’t be _that_ late, if we are at all.” Mial denied, and she could practically hear the cat roll her eyes. “Besides, Jaina will understand. She’s had her share of annoying princes to deal with.”

Sylvanas just huffed. That was true enough. And Jaina had _two_ of them. Sylvanas wished she had her patience, sometimes. There was so much to admire about the young mage. She knew herself well enough to recognize that she had an attraction to her. 

To think, Sylvanas had teased her sisters about their interest in humans before, and now she found herself wanting to court one as well.

And, if she wasn’t mistaken, Jaina was interested in _her._ It was still hard to read Jaina, with her small non-moving ears and short eyebrows, but she thought she had a decent enough grasp of humans to read her interest.

Her soul beast certainly seemed affectionate with her. Perhaps that was just how Donnelly was, but Sylvanas had not seen him be so loving, like he was with her, with anyone else aside from Jaina.

Yes, she was pretty sure Jaina wanted to court her as well.

“Excited to see her?” Mial’s sly voice drew her out of her musing, and Sylvanas had to scoff fondly.

“Don’t act like you aren’t as well.”

“She’s a good match.” Mial agreed with a purr, “I like her.”

Sylvanas couldn’t help but smile, most of her bad mood vanishing. She already knew her soul beast liked Jaina, but hearing it said out loud filled her with joy.

Mial approved. Soon, she might grant Jaina her name. The thought filled Sylvanas with both anticipation and nervousness. Certainly such a big gesture from her very soul, with all the signals she had given...

 _Belore,_ Sylvanas had never wanted to court someone so badly in all her centuries. Had never wanted _to be_ wanted so fervently. 

She couldn’t help but quicken her pace even more as they drew closer to the portals, her heart almost singing with her excitement to see Jaina again. Mial was laughing at her, but Sylvanas paid it no mind. The portals now in sight, Sylvanas half turned to open her arms for Mial to leap in, without breaking stride. It always felt disorentating to step through a portal, without at least a hand her soul beast. A common ailment, and most of the quel’dorei chose to simply carry their beast through, if they were strong enough.

Sylvanas nodded at the mages in charge of the portals as she passed through. The high, twisting spires and gilded gold of Silvermoon vanished behind her, replaced by the ivory and squat human buildings of Dalaran. The ancient magic of the Sunwell that pulsed through the very land of Quel’thalas became a distant tickle, and younger, sharper, less potent magic filled her senses. 

She let Mial drop from her arms, inwardly snickering at how the fussy cat pretended she was above being carried. As if she didn’t love it. Sylvanas played innocent at Mial’s knowing glare, starting their journey into the crowded streets in search of Jaina. A familiar voice shouted out, and a round, dark shape galloped toward her.

“Sylvanas!” Donnelly squeaked in glee, raising to his hind paws and tugging at her leggings in a bid to be picked up. 

Sylvanas happily obliged, letting him press their foreheads together as if he was a beast of a loved one she hadn’t seen in awhile. Perhaps human customs were different, perhaps he didn’t even know what the gesture meant to her, but it nonetheless always filled her with hope. “Hello, noble beast.”

An admonishing tug on her hair, as always. “ _Donnelly_.”

“Of course, Donnelly.” Sylvanas helped him to her shoulders, her eyes falling on Jaina. She looked radiant, Belore’s rays shining off her golden hair, the blue of her eyes matched by the clear sky. 

She worried that her infatuation was written clear across her face as she and Jaina greeted each other. That her giddy glee was obvious when Jaina took her arm to walk with her, that she was beaming like a fool as they headed to Georgie’s. The familiar smells of the pub made her smile, even as the noise made her ears flatten ever so slightly. 

A small price to pay for chips.

“I do think we’ve become regulars.” Sylvanas chuckled when Georgie called he knew what they wanted. “And predictable ones, at that.”

“I think everyone has seen you inhale chips, so I’m not too shocked we’re predictable. You’re getting as bad as Donnelly with clams.”

“I’m hurt, Jaina. That’s hurtful.” Sylvanas gave her a mock-wounded look, and Donnelly huffed at the human.

“The truth can hurt, sometimes.” Jaina teased, laughing at her. She had such a beautiful laugh.

Sylvanas propped her chin on an upraised hand, ears canted forward to better listen to her. “How go your studies, since last I was here?”

“Oh!” Jaina’s eyes immediately lit up, as if she was still amazed Sylvanas cared to ask. “They’re wonderful! Antonidas is trusting me with helping Modera decode runes and sigils used by the Horde in the Second War and-”

She launched into an explanation, passion in her voice and every gesture she made. The intricacies of magic quickly went over Sylvanas’s head, but she found herself riveted all the same.

Jaina hardly slowed until Gorgie brought their food and tankards of ale, at which point her stomach grumbled loudly. 

Both Sylvanas and Georgie grinned at her. 

“Don here eat all your food again?” The portly man chuckled, holding the bowl of steaming clams just out of the otter’s reach. “Greedy beasties don’t deserve clams!”

“Hey!” He squeaked, flailing his paws around. “I didn’t! Give me- give me my blood clams!”

“I just forgot,” Jaina explained sheepishly, “He can have his clams.”

“Well alright,” Georgie chuckled, setting the bowl down and quickly withdrawing his hand as Donnelly shoved his face in to prevent them being taken away.

“And fish n’ chips, for you and Miss Sylvanas,” He winked at Sylvanas, making sure to set the platter closer to her, “Extra chips for you, Miss. I’ve had to put them permanently on my menu- all sorts of elves coming in at slow times, ordering whole platterfulls!”

Good, he deserved more business, even if he already had a loyal crowd. Sylvanas nodded decisively, taking a handful of the crisp, golden potato strips. “I have told everyone I know of these. I’m telling you, if you find a way to import them to Quel’thalas, perhaps open another location in Silvermoon…”

“I’ll stick to Dalaran, Miss Sylvanas.” Georgie chuckled, and crouched to set another dish on the floor. “I don’t know if your beastie is as hungry as Don always is, but I felt bad she never got her own. Is that alright, Miss beast? S’just some braised gamefowl.”

Mial poked her head out from underneath the table, using a paw to daintily pull the dish to her. “Thank you Georgie, that is very kind. And a welcome bit of variety.”

Georgie beamed, dusting his hands together and dipping his head. “You’re welcome, Miss. You ladies enjoy!”

Sylvanas nodded, mumbling around a mouthful of chips.

“I think we will,” Jaina laughed, dunking her fish into her cup of vinegar. 

They chatted idly around mouthfuls of food, laughing at Donnelly’s occasional squeak of glee as he devoured his clams. 

“How is your food, brave beast?” Jaina asked when there was a break in their conversation, ducking down slightly to address Mial.

“Excellent.” The serval crunched a bone in emphasis. “I don’t think Georgie can make a bad meal. And I grant you my name, Jaina Proudmoore. You may call me Mial.”

Sylvanas’s breath caught, she almost choked on her bite of fish. She had hoped- but she hadn’t expected it so soon.

She met Jaina’s eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. The human looked stunned, her eyes wide. Sylvanas knew, without looking, that Mial was meeting and holding her gaze. And Jaina wasn’t looking away.

_Jaina wasn’t looking away._

“I-” Jaina licked her lips, cheeks dusted a faint pink, “I am honored, br- Mial. I will endeavor to be worthy.”

“You already are.” Mial purred, surreptitiously flicking her tail to hit Sylvanas in the ankle. Reminding her to breathe, maybe. Or teasing her.

But how could she breathe when Jaina was looking right into her soul?

Sylvanas put a hand closer to the middle of the table, smiling at Jaina when the human finally looked back up. Belore, had she ever been so nervous in her life? Her ears pricked forward attentively, quivering ever so faintly. This could be it. 

Jaina, however, didn’t reach out, other than to take another piece of fish. Her blue eyes were shining in happiness- no, not just happiness. Joy. Pure, euphoric joy. But she didn’t touch Sylvanas’s hand as conversation sparked again.

Or maybe not. Sylvanas kept her smile on her face as conversation resumed, but her ears drooped under the crushing feeling of disappointment. 

She was lucky, still, to have Jaina as a friend, Sylvanas told herself firmly. It would have been nice, to court her. But it wasn’t needed. Friendship was fine.

Totally, completely fine. She could get over a crush- over an infatuation. Surely that's all it was. It would be _fine._

Jaina’s eyes sparkled in the light, and Sylvanas felt her heart skip a beat. 

_Belore_ , she was screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~sylvanas has always referred to them as soul beasts not spirit beasts if you've seen otherwise it was simply a trick and not something i went back and edited to soul beast~~
> 
>  
> 
> guess what now has Mutual Pining?!!  
> thats right!! imma try and write a slow burn. 
> 
> pray for me


End file.
